Father Knows Best
by underground-sweetheart
Summary: What happens when one of the heroes' father turns out to be a traitor?


Once again, I don't own Hogan's Heroes, they belong to a Bing something or other. I hope you enjoy the fic though. Please R&R  
  
*********  
  
"Wow! How did you do that?" asked Carter, his eyes reflecting wonder and amazement.  
  
Peter Newkirk had performed his magic in front of all kinds of people of every size, age and race. Yet he had to admit that Carter was his best audience yet. The younger man was like a big kid, and Peter just loved to impress him with magic tricks, wild tails, and imitations. "Almost like the little brother I never 'ad."  
  
Growing up as an only child, Peter would pray often that God would send him a little brother. Of course, as he got into his early teens, he was greatful that he didn't have to worry about taking care of another family member.  
  
But ever since he met Carter, he felt that perhaps God had heard his prayers after all. Sure he would get frustrated with Carter every now and then. He just had this way of making the most rediculous comments at the wrong time. But it was also this childishness and naivity that gave Carter that "loved by everybody" personality.  
  
Just as he was about to do another one of his tricks, LeBeau came running into the barracks. "Col. Hogan! We have company."  
  
"Who is it, Louis?" asked Kinch as Hogan came out of his office.  
  
"Burkhalter. And there's a man dressed in civilian clothes with him."  
  
"Kinch, turn on the coffee pot." ordered Hogan and they all went in his quarters.  
  
*****  
  
"Klink, you idiot, sit down and shut up!" the unmistakeable voice of Gen. Burkhaler played over the speaker.  
  
"Yes, Herr General! I just wanted to make sure that everything was..."  
  
"KLINK!"  
  
"Yes, sir! Sit down and shut up!"  
  
"I have left a very important man waiting in you outer office, so let's make this brief. This man is carrying secret papers that list the Allies battle plans for the next six months. These plans have strict details on where they will attack, when, with how many men and how much artillary they will be using during these attacks."  
  
The POWs all whistled and sighed when they heard this.  
  
"He will be willing to sell them to the Third Reich for a reasonable price. We will be keeping him here for saftey measures until a few details are straightened out and the exchange is made. It should only be for another day."  
  
"But, sir. How was he able to get his hands on this information?" asked a very dubious Klink.  
  
"This man has very extra-ordinary talents. He is able to get in and out of top secret places with out being seen. He is an expert in picking locks, cracking safes, and he has one more thing in his favor."  
  
Carter looked over at Hogan and grinned "Looks like they have a Cpl. Peter Newkirk too."  
  
The other men smiled at his remark and Peter pulled Carter's cap over his eyes.  
  
Listening once more they heard a man enter the room and the door close behind him.  
  
"Are you sure I'll be safe here?" the man asked.  
  
The POWs all looked at each other in shock. This man wasn't a German, but an Englishman.  
  
"Col. Klink understands the situation entirely and I'm positive you'll will be safe." although Burkhalter didn't sound as positive as he was making out to be.  
  
"This man's an Englishman!" said a confused Klink.  
  
"Very good, Klink. Truthfully, I thought it would take a little longer for you to catch on." said a sarcastic Burkhalter. "Col. Klink, I would like for you to meet Mr. James Newkirk."  
  
Peter's faced dropped and the other prisoner looked at him with wondering eyes. Then their attention went back to the radio.  
  
"Newkirk? Did you say, Newkirk? We have a prisoner here by that name." said Klink.  
  
"I know!" continued Burkhalter. "This is his father."  
  
The men turned once again to look at Peter, but he was gone.  
  
*****  
  
Peter leaned up against the side of Barrack 7. "Of all the places 'e 'ad to show up, why here? Why as a traitor?" Not that it surprised him about his father. But now Peter felt too ashamed to face the rest of the group. Now they knew about his father. He had never told them much about his family life growing up, because it really wasn't anything to be proud of. Now he wished he had said something, instead of having them find out what sort of a man his father was like this.  
  
How could he face them again? They had always been like a family together. Something that Peter had wanted all his life was a real family. Now, because of his father, would they look at him differently? Feel coldy towards him?  
  
Peter was suddenly hit with the feelings of bitterness, hatred, anger and lonliness all at one time. For the first time since he was a child, Peter felt like weeping. And as he sat on the cold, hard ground of Stalag 13, he buried his head in his hands and cried softly to himself.  
  
*****  
  
"This is a real problem, mon Colonel" said LeBeau. "It's bad enough that a man get's hold of information like that, but when he is your father..." Louis just shook his head.  
  
"Yeah, I know. Kinch, radio London and tell them what we found out. LeBeau! Carter! Split up and look for Peter." And with that, the three of them separated outside and searched for their friend.  
  
*****  
  
Peter wiped the tears from his face, and just sat there and stared at the ground. He had cried himself out and was now exhausted. Twenty years of tears were stored up within him, and he had finally let it all out.  
  
Carter came around the corner just then, and saw that his friend had been crying. Knowing that Peter didn't like to show his emotions, he didn't mention that he could tell from the red eyes and tear streaked face that he had been crying.  
  
Carter sat down next to Peter and for a few minutes, nothing was said. Then Carter broke the silence.  
  
"You know you could catch cold sitting out here with out your jacket on." he said, reaching for anything that would pull his friend out of this mood. It didn't work though. Newkirk only shrugged and continued twisting his hat in his hands.  
  
"Ya know, Col. Hogan and the rest of us have been looking for you. We're kind of worried. I mean, you finding out your father's a traitor and all..." he bit his lip and hated himself for letting that slip when he saw Peter duck his head. Why did he always manage to say the wrong things?  
  
"I-I'm sorry Peter. It just slipped. I'm...sorry."  
  
Peter looked up at him now and gave him a faint smile. "It's all right, Carter. You were right. He is a traitor. He's always been like that, ya know! Of course, last time I saw him, I was only eleven years old. He ran out on my mother and me. Today was the first I saw of him in over twenty years."  
  
Knowing that his friend needed to talk it out, Carter said, "Wanna talk about it? I'm listening."  
  
When Peter saw how sincere he was, he nodded and continued. "Like I said, he's always been a kind of traitor. He was always cheatin on my mother. And he always accepted bribes, stole, or sold information to whoever would pay the highest price, like you see him doing now."  
  
At this time, Hogan and LeBeau rounded the corner, but kept silent while Peter talked.  
  
"Once he was working as a guard at the bank in our town. Some men bribed him, saying that if he would help them in robbing the bank, they'd cut him in for twenty-five percent. He took it. Sure enough, the bank was robbed, and he played innocent when the police questioned him. They had no reason to hold him, so he was set free. My mother and I didn't even know of his involvment until..." Peter stopped. Andrew knew this was hard for him, but encouraged him to go on.  
  
"I was going through some drawers in my parents room, looking for my sling shot that I had been grounded from using. That's when I saw the money. 2500 pounds. I was counting it when he came in and caught me. He started yelling and screaming and before I knew it, he started beating me. The next thing I remembered was waking up on the floor, blood coming from my nose and mouth. Anyways, I never saw him again since then. That is, not until today."  
  
When he was sure that Peter was finished, Carter said, "Boy! That's tough. I'm sorry, Peter. I never knew you had to go through that."  
  
Peter smiled at his friend, "Thanks, Carter. I know you mean that, but I'm not looking for sympathy. What I need to know is that you and the rest of the gang don't hold anything against me because of him."  
  
Carter was about to assure his friend that neither he nor the rest of the men felt any differently towards him, but Hogan beat him to the punch.  
  
"That's rediculous, Peter!" Hogan said rather sternly. Peter jumped, obviously not realizing that Hogan and LeBeau had been standing there.  
  
Carter and LeBeau were surprised at how stern Hogan sounded.  
  
Hogan continued. "We've all been together for two years now: working, eating, sharing, depending on eachother in life and death situations.There was never a time that one of us were hurting that the rest didn't hurt just as much. And if you think so little of our relationship that something like this would ruin it, then perhaps I have you figured wrong, Cpl. Now we have work to do, and what I want to know is are you with us or not? 'Cause if you're with us, you need to shake yourself out of this and get to work! Well, Cpl.?"  
  
Carter was angry with his C.O. for talking so harshly to Peter. But LeBeau just smiled at him and shook his head as if saying "Don't worry. The Colonel knows what he is doing."  
  
Peter looked at Hogan and stood. "Yes, sir! I'm ready to get to work." and saluted.  
  
Hogan returned the salute and started walking away.  
  
"Colonel Hogan?"  
  
Hogan turned around.  
  
Peter smiled at him. "Thanks!"  
  
With a smile and a nod, Hogan walked back to Barracks 2. Things would be tough for Peter the next few days, but as long as he knew he was surrounded by friend, he would be all right.  
  
*****  
  
Kinch was just coming up out of the tunnel when Hogan and the rest of the men walked into the room.  
  
"Orders from London, Colonel. We're to destroy the plans and send James Newkirk back to London as a prisoner." Kinch looked over at Peter who was sitting at the table with Carter and LeBeau. He whispered to Hogan, "How'd things go with Peter?"  
  
"I'll tell you about it later," was Hogan's whispered reply. "OK, men. You heard the orders. Any ideas on how to pull it off?"  
  
"Well one thing's for sure, Colonel," offered LeBeau, "We can't do anything while he is in the camp. All blame would fall onto Klink and suspicion would fall on us."  
  
"So we would have to wait until he left camp?" asked Carter. "He's going to be here for only one more day."  
  
"One day." Hogan said, thougtfully. "When they transport him out of here to make the trade, you can bet that they'll have him very well protected. It might go easier on us if there was someway that we could talk to him. Try to convince him what selling these plans could do to..."  
  
"If you're thinking about throwing the patriotic angle on him," interrupted Peter, "you can just forget it. I know that man. The only thing he is thinking about is the money."  
  
This gave Hogan another idea, but he wasn't sure if he could ask Peter to do it. Well here it goes.  
  
"Peter, I know this would be hard for you, so I'm not going to make it an order, just a request. Will you talk to him?" Peter was about to protest, but Hogan hurried on. "It may be our only chance to pursuade him over to our side. If he comes to our side, there's a smaller chance of people getting hurt. What do you say?"  
  
What could he say? Either he at least makes an attempt to talk to his father, or someone might get hurt. Someone very close to him.  
  
He sat in silence for a while, feeling all the eyes on him. Finally he looked up at his leader and said "All right, sir. I'll see what I can do."  
  
*****  
  
The next morning, after roll call, Shultz came up to Newkirk and said "The Kommandant would like to see you."  
  
"What? See me, Shultz? Are you sure?" he asked, acting as if he had no idea why Klink would want to see him.  
  
"What does he want him for, Shultz?" questioned Hogan.  
  
"I do not know. The Kommandant does not tell me anything! He simply tells me to get someone and I get them. Now let's go!"  
  
Shultz grabbed Peter by the arm and led him to the kommandant's office and Hogan followed closely behind, just as Shultz figured he would.  
  
*****  
  
"Come in!" called out Klink, answering the knock at the door. "Ah! Cpl. Newkirk! How nice to see...Col. Hogan what are you doing here? I did not ask for you."  
  
"According to the Geneva Convention, Kommandant, you are not to interrogate a prisoner with the Senior POW present."  
  
"This is not an interrogation, Hogan! There is simply somebody here who wishes to see Cpl. Newkirk, that's all." replied Klink in an irritated tone. This Hogan always used the Geneva Convention like a weapon.  
  
"Who wants to see him?" asked Hogan  
  
"None of your business, Hogan! Dismissed!"  
  
"If it involves my men, Kommandant, it is my business!"  
  
"Hogan! I said dismissed. Shultz, escort Col. Hogan back to his Barracks." Klink was becoming visible angry now.  
  
As Shultz grabbed Hogan by the arm and pushed him out the door, Hogan said, "Remember, Peter! Don't let them intimidate you and don't give in to the brutality of the Iron Eagle of Stalag 13," and then the door shut behind them.  
  
"So, Cpl. Newkirk. I guess you're wondering who it is that is waiting to see you, huh?" Klink gave Peter a huge grin.  
  
"Oh don't tell me. I wouldn't want you to spoil me surprise. Just tell me one thing, sir. Is she pretty?"  
  
"It's not a woman, Cpl." and Klink's grin widened even more.  
  
"Well, beggin' your pardon, sir. But if it's not a woman, then I don't think I care to meet him. May I be excused?"  
  
"No, Cpl. You can't be excuse. You are going to meet this man and that is a direct order! SHULTZ!!!" Klink's grin had turned into an angry frown. Cpl. Newkirk just wasn't playing the game like he wanted him to play. "Alot like Col. Hogan," he mused to himself.  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant?" came the rotund Sgt. He was getting tired of fetching for the Kommandant.  
  
"Escort Cpl. Newkirk to my quarters and make sure he does not escape from you on the way. Do you think you can handle that?" He asked sarcastically.  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" "What am I, now? An escorting service?" he thought as he and Peter left the office.  
  
*****  
  
James Newkirk paced the room back and forth. "How long since I've seen him? By how much would he have changed? Would he remember me? "  
  
And at that thought, he stopped in his tracks. The last he had seen his son, was when Peter was lying on the ground unconscious, bloody and bruised. He looked at his own hands. "And it was done by these. By his own father's hands."  
  
Not a day went by without James thinking about what he had done. He had been sorry for it ever since and had wanted to tell Peter that, but was afraid to even see him again. So many times he walked by his old house within the past couple of years. His wife was now dead and he knew Peter didn't live there anymore. But he wanted so much to go back to that day and take back what he had done. Now he was going to see his son again. What would he see in his son's eyes? Hatred? Forgivness? Did he dare hope for forgivness?  
  
What excuse would he give his son for being there? He couldn't tell him the real reason for his being there. "Maybe I could...." and then there was a knock at the door.  
  
He went to the mirror and he nervously ran his hands over his graying hair. He couldn't stand to look at that beast in the mirror. It always looked at him with mockery in it's eyes and seemed to laugh as if saying, "Look at what you have become. You started off with a little shop lifting, a little pick pocketing, and now you're in so deep you can't come out."  
  
He shook the image from his mind and faced the door. "Come in!" he called, and in walked Peter.  
  
James could hardly believe his eyes. He knew his son would be a man now, but he still expected to see a little boy. He wanted to run over and hug him, but decided he'd best wait to see where he stood in Peter's mind.  
  
"Hello, Peter!" he said in almost a whisper. "My, you have grown haven't you. You're so tall and...and...how are you doing?"  
  
"Guess about as good as can be expected of a POW." Peter said flatly. His father still looked the same as he remembered him. Well maybe he gained a little weight and there was gray hair where it used to be dark. But other than that, nothing had really changed.  
  
"Well, sit down." he motioned toward the sofa. Peter just nodded and sat down. His father sat down next to him.  
  
"Tell me son, what have you been doing with your life? How have things been for you?" He was afraid of the answer, but figured this would be a way to find out how Peter felt about him. Just as he feared, he saw the anger in Peter's eyes.  
  
"Well after you left so abruptly and without even saying goodbye," he started out very sarcastically, "I had to drop out of school and get a job to help mother out. It wasn't easy, but we got by. Then about twelve year later, she died. I went out on me own and did odd jobs as well as perform magic shows to pick up extra money hear and there. I became quite a success at it, until this little thing called WWII came. Then I joined the RAF, and...well...here I am."  
  
James was hurt by the whole thing. He knew the brief description of his son's life was an accusation. What could he say to him? How could he even think of asking for forgivness. He had to try.  
  
"Look, son. About what happened that day I left, I..."  
  
"What's in the brief case?" Peter interrupted.  
  
James was startled at the interruption. Why was Peter interested in his brief case when he was trying to explain what happened.  
  
"Nothing. Just some peronal documents. Now like I was saying...."  
  
"Do you have and wine in here?"  
  
"What? Oh...yes...I do. Just a minute." His father was obviously put out about being interrupted twice in a row, but went to the other side of the room to get the wine.  
  
While his back was turned, Peter quickly picked the lock on the brief case and saw the battle plans. Burkhalter wasn't exagerating about the details. If the Axis powers got a hold on this, there's no telling how it could drastically change the war.  
  
Just then Peter heard a gasp and looked up to see his father staring at him with a horrified look on his face. He had to make up something quick to make his father believe he didn't know about this until now.  
  
"I was wondering why you would be here, in the middle of Germany. Now I know. You're a bloody traitor!!"  
  
"Son, please! Let me explain!"  
  
"Don't call me son! I am not your son and you are not my father!" Peter yelled at the top of his lungs.  
  
"Peter! Please!" James desperatly pleaded.  
  
Peter sat back down and got his temper under control. Even though he had already know about all this in advance, and this was just a cover up so he could talk to him about it like Hogan asked, what he was taking out on his father was the real thing.  
  
James sat down next to his son. How could he explain this away. He knew Peter knew the truth and telling a lie would only worsen the situation. The only thing he could do now is come clean. He took a deep breath and began.  
  
"Peter, you're right. I am a traitor. I'm selling this information to the Third Reich. When I first had this idea, I figured it didn't matter. I didn't owe England or any of the other allied forces anything. So I made a copy of the plans and came here to sell them. But things changed when I got here. I saw things that...well..were inhuman. We passed through concentration camps, POW camps and I even saw a Gestapo interrogation. I realized just what I was doing. You might say, I even had a change of heart. But I didn't quite know how to get out of it. I know that if I refuse, I will be shot. When I heard that they were going to bring me to Stalag 13, I wasn't sure I could stand being in the middle of a POW camp where there were so many brave soldiers, real men, who were suffering for their countries sake. But I agreed and on the way here was told that you were in this camp. My first thought was to jump out of the car and go the opposite way. But I couldn't! I had to see you again. To see how you had grown and what had become of you. And now here you are, but I never meant for you to find this out."  
  
"And that is supposed to make me feel better?" he asked, very upset.  
  
"Look, Peter. You must believe me. If I had any of this to do over, I wouldn't do it." His eyes were pleading with Peter to understand him. To believe that what he was saying was the truth. Yet, he knew, Peter had no reason to believe him.  
  
"Then why don't you forget it? Run away with the plans? Destroy them before the Nazi's get a hold on them.?"  
  
"Are you kidding?" He couldn't even believe Peter was suggesting it. Yet, if he were more of a man, he knew that is exactly what he would do. "Of course if you were more of a man, you wouldn't have been involved in robbing that bank. You wouldn't have left Peter or your wife like you did. You wouldn't be here now!"  
  
"Look!" he continued, "The Nazi's are treating me good right now. But I overheard orders for them to shoot me if I step foot outside Stalag 13. Can you imagine what they would do to me if I tried to run away? If I destroyed the plans?"  
  
Peter looked at his father with obvious disgust and hatred in his eyes. James had to look away. He couldn't bare having his son looking at him that way, even though he knew he deserved no better.  
  
"What if I know of a way to help you get out of Germany?" Peter suggested.  
  
"What? How could you get me out of Germany? You're a POW." What was he saying?  
  
"Never mind that. Just tell me, if I could get you out of here, would you go? Forgeting the money and destroying the plans?"  
  
"Well I...yes. I would. But just how do you...?" But before he could finish, Peter grabbed his hat and got up to leave. "Wait! Where are you going?"  
  
"I need to go see someone. I'll get in touch with you later and let you know if I can do anything." And with that, he left.  
  
James stared at the door his son just walked through. "How was he planning on getting me out? Perhaps he is able to bribe one of the guards? Perhaps Shultz.?" He just shrugged his shoulders and sat back down on the sofa, putting his head in his arms. "Oh Peter! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" And he fell asleep, weeping.  
  
*****  
  
Peter walked into his barracks and went straight into Hogan's quarters. The men were gathered around the table where they had been listening over the coffee pot.  
  
"You heard?" Peter asked.  
  
"Yeah, we heard." replied Hogan.  
  
"Well, what are we going to do?" asked LeBeau.  
  
"I've been thinking about it." said Hogan, still deep in thought. "They will be taking him out of here and going to Hammelburg. Somewhere along the road, a group of Gestapo agents will order that the prisoner, James Newkirk, be turned over to them along with the brief case."  
  
"Excuse me, Colonel," LeBeau raised his hand like a kid in school. "But won't that be a little dangerous? These guards know how important this man is, and will be highly suspicous of anyone, even Gestapo."  
  
"Yes, LeBeau! This will be very dangerous. But we have no other choice. I won't lie to you boys. There will most likely be a heavy amount of shooting going on. Someone might get hurt, maybe even killed. But we have our orders and it's our job to carry them out." Hogan said it with such finality, there was no use in argueing it with him anymore.  
  
*****  
  
The next morning, Peter went back to Klink's quarters to see his father.  
  
"Have you changed your mind about leaving Germany?" he asked him. He wanted to be sure that his father wasn't just caught up in the emotion of seeing him again when he made the offer and after sleeping on it decided not to leave Germany, but go through with the plan.  
  
"No! I still want to leave. Are you able to help me?"  
  
"I think so. On your way towards Hammelburg, Gestapo will stop your car. Don't ask questions, just do as they say."  
  
James just nodded. He didn't know what his son was into, but he admired him for it. He was glad to see that his son had become more of a man that he, himself, ever dared hope to be.  
  
"Peter, I hope after tonight, things can be different between us."  
  
Peter looked a bit uncomfortable, and got up to leave. "I need to go back and make sure everything is in order." he said and walked out.  
  
"Maybe after tonight, things would be different." James thought to himself. "Perhaps I will be able to make a new life for myself. Perhaps my son would love me and respect me. Perhaps. But was it too much to ask? "  
  
*****  
  
The five men waited out in the darkness, all of them dressed in the usual, black Gestapo uniforms. They were all armed with German Lugar's and long Bowie knives that they kept hidden under their coats.  
  
Peter had forged some papers, that he hoped,would satisfy the guards into turning over his father along with the plans.  
  
"OK, you all know what to do, but let's go over it once more." Everytime they went on a mission, Hogan always went over the plans numbers of times to make sure everyone had it memorized.  
  
"There will be two vehicles, one with four guards and James Newkirk. The second car will have five more guards in it. I will give the Sgt. in charge the orders Peter had forged. If this satisfies him, we should be ok. If not, he's gonna want to call General Burkhalter to confirm this. I'll do my best to talk him out of it without becoming overly suspicious. If it still doesn't work, Carter, you will casual walk over and take the brief case from James Newkirk's hand. When I give the signal,Carter you start running back to camp. The rest of us will hold them off the best we can. Does everyone understand?"  
  
Everyone nodded, confirming that they understood.  
  
"They're coming, Colonel" Kinch yelled, who had been standing as look out.  
  
"OK, guys! It's show time!" Hogan said, and quickly took on a Gestapo air.  
  
LeBeau stood out in the middle of the street. "Halt!" he yelled, and the vehicles stopped.  
  
Getting out the car was a young, cocky seargeant. He was obviously agitated that he had been stopped in the middle of delivering his very important prisoner.  
  
"What is it? What is going on. I have a very important man in..." but he stopped and snapped to attention when he saw Hogan walking towards him.  
  
"Sgt! When the Gestapo tells you to 'halt' you will halt without any back talk, is that understood?" Hogan yelled at the man as if he were yelling at a child.  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Major!"  
  
"I have orders here from General Burkhalter ordering you to turn James Newkirk over to me!"  
  
"But, Herr Major, I was told nothing of these plans."  
  
"Here are the papers, Sgt. Look them over for yourself."  
  
The Sgt. looked through the papers and handed them back to Hogan.  
  
"Well everything looks official, sir! But I will have to call Gen. Burkhalter to confirm it."  
  
"Sgt. I wouldn't disturb the General at this hour of the night. You know how he hates to be awakened."  
  
"Well, I am sure he would not mind in this case."  
  
Hogan was starting to worry. This young Sgt. was determined to call Gen. Burkhalter. Hogan had been hoping to avoid blood shed, but it didn't seem they would be able to get around it now.  
  
Hogan gave Carter the signal, and Carter went up to James Newkirk and started to take the brief case away. The man was unsure at first, but looked over at Peter who nodded to him.  
  
Hogan still tried to talk the Sgt. out of it. "Sgt., part of the responsibilities of your rank is that you take responsibility for whoever is put in your charge. That is what makes a true officer."  
  
"I agree with you, Herr Major. But just the same, this man is too important. I must call Gen. Burkhalter. Please wait." and the Sgt. picked up his phone.  
  
That was it! Hogan gave the signal. Carter took off into the woods with the brief case and the other men opened fire on the guards.  
  
They hid behind the trees still shooting and being shot at. James Newkirk had found himself a safe hiding place out of the line of fire. There was no way now that he could run to the supposed "gestapo agents." If one of the guards saw it, they's shoot him in the back for sure. He had to play like he was still on the side of the Germans.  
  
When Hogan felt that they had held the guards up long enough for Carter to get a good head start, he gave the order to start running. As far as they knew, four out of nine guards were hit. That still left five to pursue them.  
  
They could still hear the gun fire, and Hogan ordered them to split up. He knew if they stuck together, there was a greater chance of being taken. But if they split up, so would the guards.  
  
Hogan kept on running through the woods, trying to lose the guard who was tailing him. He didn't know if he would make it back alive. He didn't know if he'd see the other men alive again. But they had taken the battle plans. That mission was accomplished and that's what was most important.  
  
*****  
  
James got up from his hiding place as soon as the soldiers took out after the prisoner. "So, this is what my son does." He leaned up against the car and shook his head. "And because of me, he might be dead right now."  
  
James ran his hand through his thick hair. He paced back and forth in front of the vehicle for a few minutes. He could still hear shooting in the distance.  
  
"Well I can't just sit hear and do nothing," he decided. "If Peter's hurt, he's going to need help." And with that, he ran on into the dark woods to look for his son.  
  
*****  
  
Peter kept dodging right and left as bullets sprayed the area around him. The two guards were close on his heals. He kept off the main paths and hid in the dark shadows, but still, they seemed to find him. He had thought about jumping them, but he was out of ammo, and even though he had the knife, there were still two guards and two guns. The only thing he could do was keep running and hope to lose them. Then he would return to the tunnel entrance.  
  
Another round of bullets shot through the air, and Peter fell to the ground. He felt a hot, stinging pain in his right ankle. He looked down at his ankle, which was oozing blood. Knowing he didn't have time to stop, he tried to get up and run again, but his ankle was in too bad of shape, and he fell back down to the ground.  
  
Knowing the two soldiers would be on him any minute, he propped himself up against the tree and reached for his knife. He knew his chances of getting both guards was slim, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight, and besides, it was the only chance he had.  
  
He saw them come around the corner, and towards where he was standing. He knew, because of the dark and the bushes, that they couldn't see him. He waited as the guards slowly started towards where he was hiding.  
  
Holding onto a branch for support with his right hand and clutching the knife with hid left, Peter waited till the soldier was half way around the tree and stuck the knife right into the guards chest. He could hear the guard cry out and gasping for breath.  
  
As soon as his partner dropped, the other guard cocked his gun, raised it and aimed at Peter.  
  
Peter closed his eyes, knowing that this was to be the end. He was waiting for the sound of gunfire, but instead heard a loud thump and then what sounded like someone hitting the bushes. Peter opened his eyes to see a man standing where the guard had been, holding a large stick of wood. He saw the man reach down and pick up the guard's gun. Then he looked over at Peter. "Hello, son."  
  
Peter fell to the ground, dizzy from the loss of blood and also the near death experience. The last thing he remembered was his father pulling at his shoulders and saying "Come on, Peter. Now is no time to sleep. We're far from safety!" But the more he fought it, the more he drifted off.  
  
*****  
  
Kinch and Hogan looked up to see Carter descending the steps from the bunk in the barracks.  
  
"Any sign, yet?" asked Carter, with worry etched all over his youthful face. It had been over four hours and there was no sign of Peter anywhere.  
  
"I'm afraid not, Carter!" answered Hogan. He knew it was hard for the young man. Peter and Carter were very close friends. "Almost like my me and brothers," thought Hogan.  
  
"What's LeBeau up too?" asked Kinch, who was monitoring the radio.  
  
"He's trying to come up with some Potato Pancakes before roll call, so he can 'convince' Shultz that there isn't a man missing, in case Peter doesn't...doesn't come back in time." he said sadly.  
  
Hogan walked over to Carter and put his arm around his shoulder. "Don't worry, Carter. Peter's been out on his own a number of times and knows how to take care of himself. He'll be back soon." But as each minute ticked by, Hogan was less and less confidant.  
  
*****  
  
Peter awoke to the smell of livestock, hay and manuer. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. "A barn?" he thought. "Why am I here?" He tried to get up, but as the pain from his ankle shot through him, so did the memory. He moaned and laid back down. That's when he noticed his father sitting over in the corner of the stall, just starting to wake up.  
  
James crawled over and sat next to Peter. "How do you feel?"  
  
"I've been better, but I'll live." he answered without emotion. Right now, he was too confused. The father he had known over 20 yrs ago and the father he had seen tonight, were two different men.  
  
"Well you lost quite alot of blood, but it's not too serious. Just glad we got to it when we did." He hesitated for a while before continuing what it was he really wanted to say. He wanted to tell Peter just what happened that day he left him and what's been going on since. He knew now was probably the only time the two of them would have alone together for a long time...if ever again. "Well, here I go."  
  
"We'll rest here a few more minutes before getting you back to camp. Son, I want to talk about what happened that day I left..." but he was interrupted.  
  
"I think I can make it all right. Let's go." Peter started to get up, but his father put his hands on both shoulders and pushed him back down.  
  
"Now look! You keep trying to avoid this subject, but we need to discuss it and right now might be the only chance we get. So stay down and listen to what I have to say, without interuptions. Then you can take what I say and do with it whatever you want. But all I ask is that you listen."  
  
Peter stopped struggling and laid back down. He nodded to his father, and he continued.  
  
"I know that you know all about the bank robbery. When I saw you in the room, counting the money I had stole, I was scared. I new someone had found out what I had done. So, out of fear, I just started hitting you. I couldn't stop, I was so afraid. The only thing that kept crossing my mind was police, trial and prison. I didn't want to hurt you, Peter!" He was crying now, and clutching onto Peter's arm. "I swear, I didn't want to hurt you. I was so afraid! I know that's no excuse. I know I was wrong. So many times I almost came back to you, to tell you I was sorry. But I was afraid to even face you again.  
  
"That's what my whole life has been." he continued, obviously ashamed. "Nothing but fear. Fear of honesty, fear of trust, fear of responsibility, just plain fear. But tonight, tonight I felt like a man again. I put aside my fear and took responsibility for what I had done.  
  
"I realized that if you or the other men were hurt, it was because of me. That's why I went out looking for you." he then looked at Peter's bandaged ankle. "Because of my mistake, I almost lost you again." He then burried his head in his hands and started weeping uncontrollably.  
  
After a few minutes, he felt Peter's hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Peter sitting next to him. He looked into his eyes, expecting to see anger. But to his surprise, he saw sympathy, compassion, and...forgivness?  
  
"It's all right, father. I know what fear is. When that ruddy kraut was pointing his gun at me, about ready to shoot, I felt fear. When I was running through the woods, trying to escape, I felt fear. When I saw that Sgt. picking up the phone, I also felt fear.  
  
"You believe I was hurt because of you. All I know is that I'm alive because of you. The man I saw out there this evening, and the man I'm talking to right now, is the man that I am proud to call...my father." he smiled at him. He was glad they had this talk. To let go of all the anger and bitterness, and to replace it with forgivness was such a good feeling. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. And finally, after all these years, he had a father.  
  
*****  
  
"Fifteen minutes till roll call. Where could he be?" Hogan, who had been pacing back and forth for the last hour, didn't even want to think about where Peter might be.  
  
LeBeau came down with four, steaming cups of coffee. He looked at his C.O. who was now pacing the floor. His eyes then travelled over to Carter, who sat on the ground, twisting his hat in his hands and biting his lower lip. He then looked over at Kinch, who was still sitting at the radio, although LeBeau knew his mind wasn't on listening for messages.  
  
Even though he was just as worried about Peter as the rest, he tried to cheer and encourage everyone.  
  
"Hey, I have some nice warm coffee here, gently spiced with a little bit of brandy." he said, passing everyone a mug.  
  
"Is it the brandy that Peter liberated from Klink's personal stock?" asked a very depressed Carter.  
  
LeBeau then knew it was hopeless to try to take their minds off the situation. Just as he was about to give up and go back up into the barracks, the trap door on the stump popped open, and to everyone's amazment, came Peter hopping down the steps on his good leg, closely followed by his father.  
  
Everyone was cheering and applauding and they all surrounded Peter at once, asking questions and shaking his hand.  
  
Hogan noticed that although Peter looked rather pale, there was something there that had been lacking the last couple of days. It was as if their old Peter Newkirk was back, and then some.  
  
Hogan then looked over at James. He was standing back, away from the crowd of men that had surrounded his son. There was something different about him too.  
  
"I must remember to ask Peter what exactly went on between them out there."  
  
Kinch interupted his thoughts. "Do you want me to radio London about the new developments?"  
  
"Yeah, go ahead."  
  
A few minutes later, Kinch came back with a reply, and gave it to Hogan.  
  
He read it, and then held up his hand to silence the men who were still questioning and fussing over Peter.  
  
"James, I have orders from London. Tonight an underground agent will come here and pick you up and take you back to London where you will stand trial for treason."  
  
"Sir!" Peter spoke up. "I think I should tell you that he saved my life, and...well...we had a talk. Things are different now, sir. If we could just..."  
  
"Peter!" His father interupted him this time. "It's all right, son. I'm going back and am going to take responsibility for what I've done."  
  
Everyone looked at the two and were very surprised. This wasn't the same Peter that they had seen last night. And even though they didn't know James very well, they knew enough about him to realize that there was a change in him too.  
  
"James, we'll do everything we can to help. With our testimony and what you have done for us tonight, things may go easier on you." Hogan said, offering James all the help he could.  
  
"Thank you, Col. Hogan." he replied greatfully.  
  
"Come on, boys! Roll call in a few minutes." Hogan ordered, and they all got up to move back into the barracks.  
  
"Uh oh! Wait a minute!" said Kinch, when he saw Peter getting up and moving towards the steps with Carter's help. "How are we going to explain his limp?"  
  
"Well, Kinch," spoke Peter, "I distinctly remember tripping over the leg of the table, and landing on my ankle wrong and twisting it. But because of my good boy scout friend, Carter, "he said, patting him on the shoulder, "I won't need a doctor, because he took care of it himself."  
  
They all laughed at this and moved there way up the steps.  
  
"Welcome home, Peter!" said Carter, smiling.  
  
"Thank you, Carter. It's good to be back!"  
  
*****  
  
That evening, the underground agent did show up.  
  
The men left Peter and James alone long enough to say their goodbyes.  
  
"Peter, even though I came here for the wrong reasons, I'm glad I did come. After all of these years, I finally have my son and my self-respect back." he said through tears.  
  
They embraced one another for a while. Finally Peter broke away and with a smile said, "I'll come see you when this is all over."  
  
James laughed. "You'll be getting out of prison to come and see me in prison. What a pair we are!"  
  
At this, Peter's smile faded.  
  
"Oh, Peter! Don't worry! Everything is going to be all right from now on. You'll see. After all, Father knows best, right?" James said, trying to reassure him. "You come and see me after this whole bloody war is over. We'll have alot of catching up to do."  
  
"I will!" he said, just as the underground agent was coming back. "And don't you forget to write me either, you old goat!"  
  
"Old goat, he says! If this here gentleman wasn't in such a hurry, I'd take you over my knee and teach you a little more respect for your elders, I would!" he said teasingly.  
  
With one final embrace, it was time for them to say goodbye.  
  
"Goodbye, Peter. Take care!" he said, with a smile.  
  
"Goodbye, dad. I love you!"  
  
James looked into his son's eyes, and saw that he meant it. "I love you too, son!"  
  
Then the two parted ways.  
  
Hogan came up from behind Peter and put his arm around him.  
  
"Are you ok?" he asked, expecting a very sullen answer. But he was suprised when Peter looked at him with a smile and said, "Am I ok? For years I didn't have a father, and now I have somebody to return home to. You bet I'm ok, sir!"  
  
"Peter, you sure are something, you know that?" he said admiringly.  
  
Peter knew what he meant by the remark, but being uncomfortable when offered a compliment, he jokingly replied, "Yeah and I know what! But we don't use that kind of language around here." and he walked back to the steps leading to barracks 2.  
  
Hogan stood there with a big grin and shook his head. It looked like things were going to be returning to normal around here after all. 


End file.
